


Christmas in Devil’s Hole

by Shade_Nightwalker



Category: Alias Smith and Jones
Genre: Christmas, Outlaw times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:41:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22066435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shade_Nightwalker/pseuds/Shade_Nightwalker
Summary: It’s the darkest time of the year in Devil’s Hole, but some lights shine even brighter in the dark.
Kudos: 2





	Christmas in Devil’s Hole

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Avoca for proofreading and her permission to use one of her sentences which is so much better than anything I came up with.

It was a cold midwinter night at Devil’s Hole. Christmas eve.

The previous days had been lazy and boring and everyone was looking forward to the party they would have tonight. Two of the boys made great effort to present a festive meal, Big Jim prepared one of his devilish chilis and preacher was working on his traditional punch which wouldn’t be appropriate for any church social but guaranteed a bloody miserable hangover for the day after, even more so since it would be topped up with extra whiskey that was one of its main ingredients.

Kyle had saved the day when he was lucky enough to shoot a turkey. It made for a more traditional Christmas dinner than usual and the boys would enjoy and appreciate the diversion from beans, biscuits and jerky.

Heyes’s guitar and Hank’s fiddle were tuned and handy. There would be singing and dancing, of course. That no womenfolk were present was woeful, but the boys would celebrate with even more exuberant joy and there would be no reason to fight. ‘ _No girls in Devil’s Hole_ ’ was a fixed rule and saved them a lot of trouble in the end. The gang parties were always raucous and wild and getting into the Christmas spirit meant, for most of them, warming up early with friendly challenges, gambling and drinking.

The dinner had been a great success and as soon as the dishes and tables were shuffled aside, the dancing would start. Nobody would be able to hinder Wheat from presenting his own – unintentionally funny - version of the Christmas story and inevitable as well was the jig contest when the night wore on and booze worked its uninhibited magic.

Heyes had left and retreated a few strides from the bunkhouse. He leaned against the fence of the corral now, taking in fresh air in deep drags and looked up to the sky. No moon was to be seen, but it was a clear night and the dark fabric of the sky was freckled with countless stars. Heyes’s eyes were trained on the brightest among them, glowing like a candle in the darkness. His breathing deepened and moisture gathered in the corner of his eyes, certainly due to the biting cold. He blinked it away.

There would be no candle on the window sill tonight. Dang, he had no window sill at all! There was pretty much nothing he had accomplished by now. ‘ _Only two years_ ,’ he had bragged, and expected to be wealthy and well positioned by then. A _somebody_ , not a nobody anymore. Well, in some ways he was. Word was out that he had earned himself his first warrant - 100$, not very impressive - but his name was on the slate now. It was a new mark in his lifeline, a mark indicating the path he was developing on: a life of crime, outside the law, alone.

Hell, how had he come down to that bloody topic again? It was a night to celebrate! A strong curse rose to his lips but was left unspoken as his attention returned to the star above him which sparkled too brightly to be diminished by his profanity. It almost seemed its intensity increased with every beat. But why on earth was it so blurry now? A veil of clouds? Heyes blinked several times and his sight cleared again.

Where would _he_ be tonight? Was he warm and safe? In good company?

Despite his bleak mood, a warm feeling spread inside Heyes.

The dark-brown eyes remained fixed on the star, not knowing about the bright-blue pair they met there, their owner hundreds of miles away searching, hoping and asking the same questions about his cousin.

A heavy hand dropped on Heyes’s shoulder and dragged his thoughts back into the present.

“Miles away, huh?” a dark voice with a heavy Mexican accent asked him.

Heyes just shrugged at first, then nodded.

Big Jim turned and leaned his shoulders against the fence beside him. “Who is it? A girl?”

The young man hesitated, but eventually answered, “My cousin.”

“He still alive?”

“Don’t know,” Heyes answered barely audible.

Now it was Big Jim who nodded. He tilted his head back and looked into the sky, too – or maybe a place beyond.

Eventually Heyes broke the silence. “Who is it?”

“My family.”

“Still alive?”

“No.” Big Jim sighted. “No, long gone.”

He paused for minutes before he continued, “Maria, my wife, and Lucia, my daughter. Beautiful as the day. Wiped out in a blink. _Guerra Estados Unidos-México._ ”

They stood a moment longer in silence. Then Big Jim clapped the young man’s shoulder. “Come on in, Hannibal, or you’ll freeze your butt off. It’s about time.”

“Go ahead, I’ll be right there.”

Big Jim nodded and returned to the bunkhouse. When he entered, light and laughter spilled out into the darkness.

Maybe it _was_ time...

Heyes gathered himself, squared his shoulders and pushed the uncomfortable thought to the back of his mind.

For sure it was time: time to return, time to be happy again, cheerful. It was up to him to lead the boys in everything: gambling, drinking, reveling. No time to dwell on dark thoughts and dark moods. He turned around, pasted a smile on his face and returned to his gang – the closest thing to family he had tonight.

He wasn’t known to be moody and he wouldn’t want to change a thing about it. So, he picked up his guitar started a scurrilous song and led the boys into a cheerful mood that didn’t quite reach his heart tonight ... yet the memory of the bright, glowing star placed a twinkle in his eyes.


End file.
